I'm Right Here
by Aiselne Phoenix Nocturnus
Summary: For Shelley Godwin, even the fires of hellish destruction pale in comparison to the horrifying possibility of losing her little sister. Episode III. One-Shot.


_**I'm Right Here**_

**SUMMARY**: For Shelley Godwin, even the fires of hellish destruction pale in comparison to the horrifying possibility of losing her little sister.

**GENRE**: Angst/Family  
**RATED**: PG / K+  
**NOTABLE CONTENT**: Mild Violence

**COPYRIGHT NOTE**: I don't own _Xenosaga  
_**STORY TAKES PLACE IN**: _Xenosaga: Episode III – Also sprach Zarathustra_

**COMMENTS**: Yours truly happens to be a fan of Mary and Shelley, and also has been meaning to do a fanfic (well, "several" fanfics, actually) about the Godwin sisters. I've also gotten various requests from readers who agree that there aren't enough Mary and Shelley fanfics (oh so true!). Needless to say, this story was inevitable from me.

I'm kicking myself for this fic being a mere one-shot. However, I preferred to try my luck with a one-shot first, to see how I'd manage with my first attempt at a Mary and Shelley story. For all intents and purposes, this fic is experimental, and depending on how it fares will determine any future Godwin projects of mine. For this story, I merely wanted to dive into Shelley's personality and elaborate her unspoken feelings regarding her sister.

So this story marks the first (of hopefully many) of my Mary and Shelley fanfics. Enjoy, and please post a review afterwards. ^_^

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I'm Right Here

_Aiselne Nocturnus_

It was certainly not the first time Shelley visited the _Elsa_, but it was the first time she stepped onto the Lohengrin cargo ship as a refugee. She and the other few survivors rushed into the small green ship like frightened animals seeking higher ground during a flood. Of course, Shelley maintained her calm, even-tempered demeanor during this crisis, though inside she was just as scared as the rest of her remaining crewmembers.

The Salvator Faction's sabotage of the _Durandal _took everyone onboard by surprise, even someone as brilliant and levelheaded as Shelley Godwin. Now, the majority of her crewmates were dead and the Arbiter Code was in enemy hands. Plus, Heavens only knew what became of Master Gaignun! Currently on the _Elsa_, Shelley could no longer continue watching the _Durandal_: the once-proud red dreadnaught engulfed in flames and overflowing with the blood of hundreds. The sight alone twisted a knife in her heart, coercing Shelley to tear her purple eyes away from the _Elsa_'s windows. The woman could only pray that somehow, someway, Little Master and his companions could end this horrible nightmare.

Until then, Shelley carefully traversed towards the lady's quarters of the _Elsa_. Due to the cargo ship still docked on the _Durandal_, occasional rumblings and various explosions from the larger ship reverberated onto the _Elsa_. A violent tremor caused the _Elsa_'s lights to flicker, driving Shelley to clutch the polished metal wall nearest the orange elevator to maintain her balance. Multiple nearby droids toppled over like bowling pins. Even the skittish white Bunnie sought refuge underneath one of the transparent orange tables below the incline ramp to the bridge. Everyone remained frightened and motionless until the ship's vibrations passed.

When the tremors ceased, Shelley inhaled a timid breath before regaining her posture, feeling almost shell-shocked. It took a little effort for her to regain her balance on her black-heeled boots. She continued clutching the wall with one hand while continuing her silent trek towards the lady's cabin. Shelley knew it was unsafe to be wandering around the ship during a time like this, but she had every intention of staying put once she reached the lady's quarters. Of course, Shelley was not necessarily heading there for relaxation purposes, either.

The few other survivors of the _Durandal_ had already been dispersed though the _Elsa_. Canaan and Juli Mizrahi remained on the bridge with Captain Matthews' crew, all anxiously awaiting the safe return of Little Master's party. Although Shelley was not an impatient woman by any means, she simply could not sit around the bridge and continue waiting for the others while watching the _Durandal_ be decimated. The _Elsa_'s bridge was engulfed in an uncommonly somber and uneasy ambiance Shelley could no longer tolerate.

More importantly, this rare bout of impatience and anxiety inside Shelley was induced primarily due to the one 'other' survivor, currently resting inside the _Elsa_'s lady's cabin. Only one other person in existence could bring out this rare side of Shelley Godwin.

With her balance fully regained, Shelley reached the closed door of the lady's cabin. Taking a second to fix her appearance, the woman smoothed any wrinkles from her violet dress and ran her slender fingers through her long hair. Despite how the outside world's battle zone was clearly showing its signs inside the _Elsa_, Shelley was still determined to maintain her proper composure and polished appearance. Not to be arrogant, but as of this moment Shelley considered herself the only present 'leader' from the _Durandal_. She still did not fully understand what happened between Dmitri Yuriev and Master Gaignun. Yes, Shelley was very worried about whatever became, or might become, of Master Gaignun, but she also knew he could take care of himself. Right now, though, there was no doubt that Master Gaignun's current state was certainly not the same authority figure Shelley originally admired. Little Master was definitely the best remaining leader, but he and his friends were busy onboard the _Durandal_ pursuing Yuriev. The _Elsa _might not have been in as dire a situation as the dreadnaught, but the cargo ship's refugees still needed some figure of strength. Shelley was probably the best leader figurehead for the survivors, since Little Master's second-in-command was currently bedridden.

_Mary…_

The insistent knife buried in her heart made another 180-degree turn as Shelley opened the cabin's door. A disturbing stillness engulfed the room, despite how minute vibrations from the outside battle occasionally shifted the cabin's furnishings. A stuffed Bunnie, presumably Miss MOMO's, laid precariously at the edge of a vacant bed, on the verge of falling via one more tremor. Overhead lights still flickered from time to time, and the backlighting of the room's jellyfish tank was no longer operational. Despite how Shelley could effortlessly see across the lady's quarters, the entire room felt very still, dark, and cold. Yet at the same time, the air was thick to suffocating levels. Like Bunnie, the entire cabin gave the illusion of being slanted, on the verge of falling over an edge. Perhaps the poor equilibrium was due to the _Elsa_'s unceremonious docking onto the _Durandal_ from earlier, but Shelley did not believe so.

Did she just feel nervous because of the _Durandal_'s sabotage? Even Shelley was disturbed by what happened on the red ship's bridge, merely an hour ago before Little Master's rescue. The violet-haired woman still maintained her flawless composure in the wake of Yuriev's intimidating presence. Yet, that did not mean underneath Shelley's mask there was not a scared girl, clutching onto her little sister's body and praying Mary would survive.

_Mary…_

Her sister's sight was a difficult one to behold, even for someone as unshakeable as Shelley Godwin. Now on the _Elsa_, all traces of the younger sibling's split blood were cleaned from Mary's body. Of course, just because the carnage was washed away did not negate the fact that at one time it did leak from Mary's chest. Even as Shelley approached the bed where Mary laid asleep, the blood could still be seen in an imaginative sense. The younger woman's hand rested innocently atop her rising and falling chest, conveniently the same location a gun barrel buried itself an hour ago.

It was an agonizing hour, arguably the longest hour of Shelley's life. It did not help that various dots of red stains decorated the lower portion of her violet dress, constant little reminders of Mary's critical state. Shelley remembered being in a locked cabin of the _Durandal_, sitting on a bed and staring helplessly at the bloodstains. On the outside, Shelley remained calm, sitting up straight and keeping her voice neutral whenever Canaan spoke to her. But on the inside, all those dots of blood served as countless reminders about Mary. For however many spots there were on Shelley's dress, there were at least double if not triple the number of worries accumulating in her mind.

She desperately wanted to be beside her little sister in Mary's time of need. Yet, Yuriev seemed to purposely separate the two women, locking them in separate rooms of the _Durandal_'s Residential Area. True, Shelley was not isolated, since she had Canaan by her side. However, the emotionally suppressed Realian was not a prime source of comfort Shelley needed at the moment. Besides, reassuring words such as "Mary will be fine" would not have eased Shelley's worries until she saw her sister with her own eyes. Shelley was not foolish to assume Yuriev kindly sent any medical treatment to wherever he hid Mary. The older Godwin just hoped Mary was not alone with her injury, or…_worse_.

Shelley was the type of woman who sought answers. Nine times out of ten, she usually _had _answers thanks to her brilliant intelligence. But when an answer was not readily available in her mind, Shelley naturally sought a solution as quickly as possible. Thus, the older woman could not stand being uninformed about her younger sister's state. Was Mary even alive? Mary was indeed a strong woman, and she was still alive and conscious after Yuriev initially shot her. But afterwards, when Salvator agents took Mary away, Shelley did not have the answers. All she did know was Mary's blood now stained her dress. Shelley could not stand the possibility that those bloodstains could be the last reminders she would ever have of her dear sister.

The older sibling never even bothered to consider her _own_ dire situation, which was rare for Shelley's character. This did not mean Shelley became reckless, but her thoughts were strictly kept on Mary, not selfishly fixated on herself. Even if both women were in danger, Shelley was not the one with a bullet embedded in her chest. As long as Shelley was unscathed, the woman doubted she harbored any reasons, or rights, to worry about herself, especially when Mary was wounded. True, there was no reason to assume Shelley's fate was any different than Mary's, or from any of the lives of the _Durandal_ crew. Technically, the _Durandal_ could have become Shelley and Mary's grave, too. However, the only thing Shelley worried about when it came to her own situation was whether or not she might die without ever knowing Mary was safe.

Fortunately, matters did not have to come to such extremities. Little Master and his comrades arrived in time, just as Shelley knew they would. Despite all the anxieties flooding Shelley's thoughts during the pandemonium, one thing Shelley _never _worried about was whether or not Little Master would come for them. It was just a question if he and the others could arrive in time to stop Yuriev and save Mary. Shelley and her sister learned a long time ago, when they were just little girls, that Master Gaignun and Little Master were dependable men. The U.R.T.V.s rescued the girls many years ago, and Shelley knew the sisters would be rescued again. True, Master Gaignun's stability was questionable at the moment, most likely out of his own power. So Shelley knew Little Master would more than effectively make up for his brother. That was how the brothers always worked: one made up for the deficiencies of the other. Such was probably what made Master Gaignun and Little Master perfect leaders for the Kukai Foundation. It was one of the many reasons Shelley admired her leaders.

The U.R.T.V.s' relationship also happened to resemble how Shelley and Mary worked together, too. One sibling always picked up any slack from the other like two perfect compliments. Shelley usually handled the more serious affairs in life, and Mary handled the laxer events. When Mary lacked a level head during circumstances, or needed to take a situation more seriously, Shelley helped the blonde calm down and take matters slowly. Conversely, when Shelley needed to "lighten up" (as her sister might say), Mary put a smile on the older woman's face. Mary also happened to be one of the chosen people capable of making Shelley laugh, which was not a small feat when it came to someone as serious as Shelley. It was true that Mary's silliness occasionally annoyed her big sister, namely during mature affairs like business meetings. However, right now, as Shelley peered down at her sleeping, wounded little sister, the older woman almost wanted to hear Mary say something witty. Shelley wished Mary would pipe up with some joke (even if it was a bad joke), or start immaturely gushing like a schoolgirl over some cute thing Little Master did. The older woman probably would still roll her purple eyes and shake her head at her Mary's behavior. But as of this moment, such silly behavior would be a godsend to let Shelley know that Mary was still Mary.

Right now, despite how the blonde laying before Shelley was indeed Mary, seeing Mary in such a frail state just did not seem possible to Shelley. For one reason, Mary was usually too energetic to sit still for very long. Back during a 'typical' day onboard the _Durandal_, Mary was always up and about. If she were not working on the bridge, Mary would be in the park, telling more of her lousy jokes to unfortunate people attempting to unwind. That, or she would be in the casino flirting with a couple of guys to see who felt like dubbing Mary his "Lady Luck" this evening (Little Master always called first dibs). Oh yes, Mary always kept the _Durandal_ lively.

It was ironic how, now that Mary was bedridden, the _Durandal _was also suffering. It certainly was not Mary's fault that the Salvator Faction ambushed them. However, it just felt like with Mary out of the picture, the energy and life she instilled onboard the dreadnaught seemed to fade with her consciousness. Shelley could only pray that the deterioration of the _Durandal_ was not poetically reflecting her sister's state of health. Shelley was strong, but right now with the hellish events consuming her people, Shelley could not afford, nor did she _want_, to lose Mary. Not now…not like this.

According to Juli Mizrahi, MOMO nursed Mary's wound upon Little Master's arrival. Once the others returned from the _Durandal_, Shelley had every intention of personally thanking that kind-hearted Realian for treating Mary's bullet wound. Shelley did not want to think about the possibilities that could have transpired had Little Master arrived too late or MOMO was unable to treat the injury. There _was_ hope for Mary, and Shelley was smart enough to know it was silly to think otherwise. As long as her sister was stable, the worst was over…at least regarding Mary's condition.

Still…as Shelley carefully sat down next to her resting sister, the older woman could not help but discreetly bite her lip and smudge her pastel purple lipstick. Nobody else was present in the room to see her potentially lose composure, but Shelley was not the type of woman to do so, even in private. Regardless if she had every right to grieve the countless deaths of her crewmembers, or shed tears of joy over the discovery that her little sister was alive, Shelley remained characteristically steadfast. Now was certainly not the time to become emotional, not when so many people needed Shelley to be strong. She certainly could not expect Mary to make a full recovery, or expect Little Master to avenge the _Durandal_, if Shelley acted weak.

During times like these, Shelley believed 'true strength' not only came from within the far recesses of one's soul, but also via a culmination of everyone's endurance. One person could not solve a problem as gargantuan as the current situation, so everybody needed to be strong for each other, pushing towards one victorious goal. She knew the stubborn Little Master would strongly disagree with her, since he usually preferred to handle matters by himself. Shelley did not always agree with his philosophy, but knew she had no grounds to tell him otherwise.

The older sister sometimes dubbed herself too reliant on Mary, though Shelley's outer behavior exemplified the opposite. Even though Shelley usually acted levelheaded, she knew she would never have made it this far in life without Mary's support and presence. The Godwin sisters were rarely apart, and when separated or at risk of losing the other, that knife inside Shelley's chest spun like a blender. Maybe this was why Little Master preferred to fly solo during difficult times such as these. The redhead already knew what it felt like to become exceptionally close to a loved one. Better than anyone, Little Master understood the devastating consequences of what happens when the object of one's endearment is torn away. Perhaps Little Master was indirectly trying to spare others, especially his best friends, from experiencing that agonizing pain he probably endured every solitary day of his life. For those reasons, Shelley never argued with him and his so-called stubbornness, solely because she did not always believe Little Master behaved due to 'stubbornness,' just 'experience.'

Shelley refused to arrogantly and naively assume the hurt in her chest was probably the kind of pain Little Master endured. There was no way of her perfectly understanding his specific suffering, especially since Shelley was fortunate enough to still have Mary. Frankly, Shelley doubted what she was feeling amounted to a _fraction_ of what the Little Master harbored every day. And now that Master Gaignun's life was questionable it was anyone's guess what was flowing through Little Master's mind at the moment. She had unwavering faith that Little Master would bring an end to this madness in some way, but at what cost? Nothing in life was free. Most, if not all, of the _Durandal _crew was dead, and matters certainly did not look promising regarding Master Gaignun's wellbeing. Whatever Little Master did, Shelley knew he would make the best decision possible, but that did not guarantee a "happy ending," either. Far too many lives had already been lost for her to assume this tragedy could possibly end on an uplifting note. Shelley knew if Mary was blessed with a full recovery that would probably be the extent of any "happy ending" regarding the remnants of the _Durandal_.

Even _then_, there were no guarantees. Mary was strong, and MOMO did an excellent job tending to the woman's wound. There was no reason to assume the worst, and yet, there was also no reason to assume the Godwins' troubles were behind them. All Shelley could think about was if Mary suddenly took a turn for the worst, perhaps lapsing into shock on the _Elsa_. MOMO was not available at the moment to provide treatment. Dr. Mizrahi could probably help, but…what if it was not enough? What would Shelley do if Mary's chest suddenly stopped rising and falling before her eyes? Shelley was smart enough to know basic CPR and other forms of first-aid, but she was not a doctor, either. Everyone had their limits.

Shelley learned her limitations when she was ten years old. The incident happened some time after the Godwin girls were taken under Master Gaignun's wing. It was the first time she and Mary visited a beach, even if the beach happened to be the synthetic one back on the Kukai Foundation. Shortly after the beach had been completed, Master Gaignun and Little Master treated the young Godwin girls to an extra-special day at the beach. Even Shelley showed a rare level of excitement that day, though it was meager compared to her rambunctious little sister bouncing up and down.

Mary could not sit still that day, building and rebuilding sand castles, chasing and getting chased by Little Master, and running in and out of the blue waters. Much to Mary's pouting, Shelley preferred to spend the day under the shade of an umbrella table. Shelley never minded, especially since she was kept in good company by Master Gaignun, who at the time was a teenager and upheld the appearance of one. Technically, Little Master was the oldest of all four of them. Yet, that afternoon the redhead reverted to acting the age his form suggested, constantly nagging Shelley and his brother to quit being beach bums and come play with him and Mary. Mary, in particular, was dead-set on getting Shelley into the water so the sisters could race, even though neither one happened to know how to swim yet.

And therein laid the problem.

Tired of her big sister ignoring her, little Mary concocted a not-so-ingenious scheme to coerce Shelley to notice her in the water. Unfortunately, by the time Shelley and the others _did _notice Mary, the young blonde had already fallen under the water's surface. By the time immediate actions were made, Mary's body stopped flailing under the deep water and fell into a brief unconsciousness. When the blonde awoke in a saltwater-induced coughing fit, Mary found herself on her back, laying on wet sand and surrounded by three colored pairs of equally concerned eyes. The particular pair of vibrant violet eyes seemed to drill into Mary's like purple daggers. Shelley did not even have to utter a word before her unruly little sister got the message and burst into tears.

"_Shelley! I'm s-so sorry! Please don't be mad! I…I d-didn't mean it!"_

Shelley never liked it when her younger sister pulled crazy stunts and then begged for forgiveness. Truthfully, Shelley believed Mary only had herself to blame for her stupid behavior. Mary's foolish stunt could have cost the blonde's life had Little Master not pulled the girl out of the water in time. Yet, as Shelley watched the tears mixing with her baby sister's saltwater-soaked face, the older girl was unable to scold Mary. Shelley was not the type of person to rant and rave to her little sister, or to anybody, in the first place. The oldest Godwin preferred to maintain her serene composure, instead of lashing out irrationally to anyone, even if they annoyed her. Typically, Shelley was levelheaded enough never to let matters get under her skin and irritate her to irate levels.

However, Shelley was also not the type to show an overly high level of emotion. Yet, her personality never stopped her from taking her soaked little sister into her arms. Shelley just assumed Mary had a certain way of bringing out sides of the older sibling that even Shelley uncommonly heeded. Perhaps it was because they were sisters, all the other hand outside their relationships with Master Gaignun and Little Master. When faced with the possibility of losing the other, separation was just…unbearable.

There was no doubt in Shelley's mind that if the current situation were reversed, Mary would be a nervous wreck over Shelley's safety. Shelley never got herself into as many predicaments as Mary did, but then again, Mary's current injury was not due to the younger sister's silliness, either. The only person to blame for Mary's wound was the monster who fired the weapon in the first place. By no means did that imply Shelley blamed Master Gaignun, either. She did not fully understand Yuriev's situation, but there was no doubt in Shelley's mind that the man who shot Mary was _not _Master Gaignun, even if his physical appearance hinted otherwise. Mary and Shelley meant far too much to both Master Gaignun and Little Master for either of them to willingly hurt the women. Long ago, Shelley accepted the violent natures of the U.R.T.V.s' bloodstained pasts. That did not mean she feared living with so-called "bioweapons," either, because Shelley knew Master Gaignun and Little Master were good people. Obviously, if Shelley considered the Kukais any threat, she certainly would not live with them, never mind allow them near her little sister. The older woman was not 'possessive' by any means, but Mary's safety was always a priority of Shelley's.

And yet…Shelley _still_ allowed that bastard to shoot Mary.

But no, self-loathing would not bog Shelley down at a time like this. After all, Mary would not want her sister to beat herself up over something that could not be helped. Yuriev's attack was a surprise to _everyone_. Shelley was not perfect, even if so many adoring people dubbed her so. The eldest Godwin sister was as infallible as any natural human being. Technically, the circumstances regarding the early years of Shelley's life now legally classified her as 'human' as the other Life Recycling victims throughout the Kukai Foundation. There was no doubt in Shelley's mind that she _was_human, regardless of laws, experimentations, or even people's opinions. If Shelley were not human, she obviously would not have cared so deeply for the younger woman resting before her. If Shelley were not human, there would not be any 'knife' twisting inside her chest every time the possibility crept into her mind that Mary might die.

She had to stop thinking such unwanted thoughts. Mary would laugh hysterically if she ever learned Shelley worried herself silly over Mary's stable condition. There was no need to worry anymore, and Shelley knew she hated worrying about 'what-ifs,' unless the what-ifs materialized into 'what-nows.' Still, Shelley could not deny that she was scared for her little sister. The possibilities of never hearing Mary's accented voice call out "Shelley!" again were a little too much for even Shelley to handle.

"Shelley…"

The knife twisted again, but this time to a lesser extent upon hearing the familiar voice ring through Shelley's ears. Blinking in muted surprise, Shelley's purple eyes fell specifically upon Mary's face, where her own azure eyes were fluttering weakly. No doubt, the medication MOMO gave Mary was probably going to send the younger woman in and out of consciousness for a while.

"Shhh…" Shelley softly hushed, leaning forward just enough for the back of her slender fingers to stroke Mary's cheek. "I'm here, Mary, but try and get some rest." Heavens knew Mary would need all the rest the fates allowed, considering her injury and the madness outside the _Elsa_.

"…Wha…whatta' bout' the others?" Mary's voice garbled a little, groggy from her poor consciousness. Minutely, the blonde's head shook once from one side to another in a feeble attempt for her to try and clear the thoughts in her mind. "…Mastah' Gaignun…Little Mastah'…"

"Don't worry about them," Shelley reassured gently yet confidently, her satin voice all it took for Mary's head to rest and for her thoughts to ease. The older sister was not merely saying such words to humor Mary, either. Shelley meant every word she was about to say regarding Master Gaignun and Little Master. "They can take care of themselves. I know they will see this through to the end."

Mary seemed to agree, though the best response she could make was curling her lips into a weak smile whilst she shut her heavy eyelids. Even though it seemed to take a moderate amount of effort to speak, Mary could not help but note, "Yeah…God knows Little Mastah's not the type…ta leave things unfinished."

Shelley was unable to prevent a small smile from her own lips while her face softened. "You're absolutely right, so get some sleep until then," she encouraged, stroking Mary's cheek again to coerce her into relaxation. This time, Mary only turned her head once, naturally in the direction of her sister's hand. After a deep breath resonated from the injured woman's lips, Shelley recoiled her hand, resting it on the lap of her purple dress still speckled red. Shelley hoped Mary never noticed the stains, since such would probably fill the blonde with unnecessary guilt and stress, which might deprive Mary of the sleep she needed.

"Shelley…?"

The violet-haired woman perked again, keeping her features as calm and normal as possible for her sister's sake. "Try not to talk, all right Mary?" she encouraged soothingly. "You need to rest," especially since even Shelley did not know when and if another opportunity would arise for Mary to rest again. The blonde needed to take advantage of any chance to recuperate during these uncertain times.

Understanding, and also immensely tired, Mary just nodded once, keeping her eyes closed and her breathing tranquil. But before slipping back into the seductive unconsciousness induced via medicine and exhaustion, Mary's lips parted once more.

"…Stay?"

Shelley's purple eyes blinked again, longer and more dramatically this time, though Mary never noticed. For a moment, the older sister just stared at Mary's peaceful face, the expression of one rapidly drifting back into slumber. It was fascinating how a grown adult could still look like a child when caught between consciousness and unconsciousness. All the weights of adulthood's lessons and worries seem to melt away when someone left for slumber. It was as though Mary was leaving for a place where time stopped and there was no difference between 'child' and 'adult.' Perhaps natural sleep served as a tiny preview of what it might be like once an entity passed from one plane of existence to another.

Even more profoundly was how, for just a moment, Shelley could have sworn she was looking at the same unruly little sister who almost drowned. For a split second, Mary _was_ a child, weak and vulnerable and reliant upon her ultimate source of strength. Mary Godwin was a very resilient woman, but her strength came from Shelley.

The same applied vice versa.

Gingerly, Shelley's hand traversed to Mary's, the same hand still atop the healing wound in the middle of Mary's chest. Delicately, Shelley rested her palm on top of Mary's limp hand, reassuringly squeezing it once for support. Stay? Shelley doubted any force inside or outside the _Elsa_ could tear her away from Mary at this very moment.

"Just get some rest, Mary," Shelley whispered, almost like a heartfelt promise. "I'm right here."

**The End**

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**A/N**: Well, that concludes my first Mary and Shelley story. How did I do for my first try? I certainly hope you found Shelley in character. I'm well aware how hard it is to portray her in an emotional situation, but considering the circumstances I tried to portray Shelley as best as possible. Mary and Shelley clearly care about each other (they're sisters for Heaven's sake!), even though they're not seen in excruciatingly emotional scenes. I was disappointed at how Episode III downplayed Mary's injury, and the writers never bothered to include one teensy-weensy clip about Shelley's impressions over the frightening situation. Unfortunately, Mary and Shelley getting the shaft really isn't anything new in this fandom as far as I'm concerned (poor girls).

Seriously, if you liked this story then *please* let me know. The fandom needs more Mary and Shelley goodness! Until then, thanks so much for reading and feel free to send me a review (especially if you want more Godwin sister stories from yours truly). ^_^


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